


Jennifer's Conclusion

by wneleh



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Episode: s05e02 The Seed, F/M, as het as I get
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-04
Updated: 2013-06-04
Packaged: 2017-12-13 22:55:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/829803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wneleh/pseuds/wneleh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How "The Seed" ended for Jennifer and Ronon. Kinda-sorta Keller/Dex.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Jennifer's Conclusion

Leaving John Sheppard to the dubious charms of Richard Woolsey, Jennifer headed back to the private cubicles near the nurses' station. Her staff had assured her that Ronon was stable, but larynx injuries could be tricky, and it wasn't like any of them was an expert on throat injuries. Or alien possession, for that matter… well, at least not the sort she'd just experienced.

It was possible to be an expert on the WRONG sort of alien possession. What an odd thought.

Maria emerged from Alcove 2 carrying a tray bearing a single bowl of jello; it looked untouched. "He wouldn't even try it," she said.

"Must still really hurt to swallow."

"Would hurt a lot less if he'd at least take a Tylenol."

Jennifer nodded. "It's been known to help," she said, loud enough to carry. If they were going to talk about a patient like this, they might as well make the conversation easy for him to follow.

Maria grimaced. "Sorry," she said softly. "Not much privacy here."

"No, I'm sorry," said Jennifer. "You did great today. Thanks, for, you know, being on the other end of the mic."

"Not a problem, doctor."

"Can I, uh, take this?" Jennifer asked, and Maria handed her the tray.

"Good luck," the nurse mouthed.

Ronon looked like he always did when he was in the infirmary: he didn't so much lie in a bed as drape it in a huge, uncomfortable-looking sprawl. But he seemed stable - his breathing was maybe little more rapid than normal, and a little shallower, but his color was fine, and there didn't seem to be significant swelling to go with the red marks on his neck. Biro had insisted that they keep him in the infirmary overnight for observation, and Jennifer agreed it was a good idea, but he was almost certainly out of danger.

"I just want to thank you…" she began, but Ronon grimaced and looked away.

"No, seriously!" she said. "You came for me. You, um, might have slowed it down a little…"

Okay, that sounded lame, so she repeated the part that was true. "You came for me, and you were almost killed."

Ronon met her eyes now. "Can I get you anything?" she asked. "They tell me you won't take anything for the discomfort, and you turned down this yummy-looking jello…"

Ronon turned away again. "Oh, cut me a break here!" she said. "You know I'm lousy at this."

Ronon came close to laughing at that, but stopped quickly, a hand coming up to his throat.

"Yeah, I bet that hurts." She placed the tray on the counter and stepped closer to the bed. "You mind if I hang out here? I can talk at you and you can make faces."

Ronon raised and lowered his eyebrows. Invitation.

"That's a good one!" she said.

He raised his hands and wiggled his fingers, imitating typing.

"You want to write something?"

Ronon shook his head, and Jennifer wondered whether he was proficient in written English - in written anything that would use a qwerty keyboard. He submitted reports, she knew… perhaps he used voice-recognition software? That wouldn't work for him tonight!

So what else did one do with a computer? "Then what…"

Ronon was now staring straight ahead, unblinking, his eyes bulging just a little. He was miming watching a movie!

"Sure, I'll bring in something to watch. Any favorites?"

Okay, stupid question unless they really wanted to get into charades here. "Never mind, I'll pick something," she said. "Let me just duck out and get my laptop."

In the main part of the infirmary, Rodney and Major Lorne were in animated conversation with Colonel Sheppard, Lorne swinging his right hand into his raised left palm.

"There's thinking outside the box, and there's flying right into it," said Rodney. "You could have landed…"

"I was in a hurry!" The colonel sounded like it wasn't the first time he'd pleaded this particular case.

The men spotted her and waved, then went back to reenacting the colonel's exploits. Why weren't they all in Ronon's room, she wondered. If they wanted to wheel the colonel into Ronon's alcove for a few minutes she'd give the okay.

She remembered the crack Sheppard had made a little while ago about not being able to tell if Ronon couldn't talk - not his exact words, but close. It had seemed pretty funny at the time, even kind of sweet if you calibrated for guy-speak, but now she wondered how Ronon fit into Sheppard's universe.

Ten hours ago, they'd seemed so close…

She'd awoken to terror, pain, and rage. Thoughts, some hers, some not, had tumbled - and then the other being's consciousness had drained away and she'd been left with nothing but the horror of it all.

The horror, the unutterable horror.

And then she'd heard a gasp: "Ronon? Ronon?" And she'd called, "Colonel Sheppard?"

"Help's on the way," he'd answered. "Have you seen Ronon? Is he here? Did I miss him?"

"I don't… I can't…" But - SHE COULD MOVE! And as she'd rolled her shoulders and stretched her arms and legs she'd found that the carapace had relaxed a little. She'd pressed with her knees and elbows, moving toward the head of the bed until her pillow had fallen off the top edge. She'd quickly squirmed out after it, the things that had grown from her breaking off like brittle leaves.

Sheppard was less than a dozen feet away, lying prone, his hand keeping a protruding piece of the thing in place.

"Good job," she'd said. "Remember what I said last month? Don't ever pull anything you don't have to."

"Yeah," he'd said. "Following doctor's orders. Can you see Ronon? If he didn't get this far…"

"Gotcha," she'd said. "Let me look."

It hadn't taken more than a minute to find Ronon slumped against a wall wheezing, his pallor horrible even in the lousy light. "Hey there," she'd said. "Let's lie you down…"

His eyes had snapped open and his mouth formed, "Doc?" as he tried to push off from the wall.

"It's okay," she'd said. "Colonel Sheppard got to me, must have done something. It's stopped."

"Shep…" he'd wheezed, sharp coughs cutting the word short.

"He's down the hall, he's hurt pretty badly," she'd said, and Ronon had rolled onto his hands and started pulling himself through the debris, his breathing scary-loud.

"For crying out loud!" She'd grabbed him and helped him rise and walk back the way she'd come. When Ronon saw the colonel, he'd shaken her loose and fallen forward, landing almost on top of him.

"Don't you dare touch his stomach!" she'd called, remembering Ronon's less-than-spectacular first aid technique, but Ronon wasn't paying her any attention that she could tell. He was sitting - barely - next to the colonel, gasping for air, staring at the other man.

The colonel was returning his gaze just as intently. "What's wrong?" he'd asked. "Ronon, what's wrong?"

"Nearly strangled, I'd surmise," Jennifer'd said. "I think he'll be okay. But let's just sit here quiet now, all together, no more walking about. Help's on the way."

She'd knelt next to them then, meaning to check them more thoroughly, but, really, there was nothing she could do now that wouldn't be done better in a few minutes, absent new symptoms, so she'd simply reached for the colonel's hand and he'd taken it. And until help had come they'd stayed just like that, Colonel Sheppard and Ronon never looking away from each other…

She shook herself and grabbed her DVD case, then checked her email. Nothing needed a response except a message from Teyla inviting her to spend the night with her and the baby if she wanted. She jotted off a quick it's-okay-I'm-good, then closed up her laptop, gathered up the cord, and headed back to Ronon's alcove.

"You up for 'Buffy'?" she asked. "Metaphorical monsters made flesh, as opposed to our real monsters made metaphorical?"

She wasn't sure that made any sense, but Ronon shrugged and she grabbed a portable table and set up the computer. Where could she sit, so that they both could see the screen?

Ronon straightened, making space on the bed; he wasn't all that wide when he wasn't trying to be.

Well, that would do.


End file.
